


An Exploration of Limits

by Amijentz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eldritch, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), Not Beta Read, Songfic, The Dark Side of the Force (Star Wars), The Light Side of the Force (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amijentz/pseuds/Amijentz
Summary: What happens when force users have anxiety and are dealing with powers so far beyond their own?An Eldritch!Found family fic. FT. Force Users Possessed by Cosmic Entities. The Cosmic Force. Clone Troopers dealing with This.Songfic exploring the concept of anxiety as a powerful being.
Kudos: 3





	An Exploration of Limits

**Author's Note:**

> TW Anxiety, Panic Attacks. 
> 
> As always, be aware of your mental health! 
> 
> Drink Water, stretch, take any medication you need to! Stay alive. <3 
> 
> This is a one-shot based around the song Eulogy by Charlie Allen. (even if you don't read the fic I promise the song is SO worth it)
> 
> (Song: Eulogy by Charlie Allen)
> 
> Suggested listening: 
> 
> Dream State by Son Lux
> 
> Symmetry by SYML
> 
> (I'll eventually put together a playlist for this story)

> **I’m Not Invincible**

_There’s so much inside my eyes. A galaxy, a nebula, an ocean of shifting colors pulsing and fading._

_The sharpness of trying to draw breath, the numbness of my skin, the wet hair from both the desperate shower in an attempt to stay grounded, and the sweat. A dull ache centered around my throat. The pressure of not screaming in terror while my ribs are both encompassing universes and won’t expand._

> **I’m Not Afraid**

The presence around her flared and faded as the breathing exercise seemed to hold her attention. Things moved, rattling the workbenches. A cup falls, spilling tepid caf. They wouldn’t be surprised if the entire cruiser was shuddering with the suffering in front of them, each shuddering groan from the girl collapsed on the floor sending rolls of panic through the room, metal crying out under the strain with agonized screams as doors are warped so they won't open fully.

The mandate to keep her breathing becomes a thing of imperative - crucial if the cruiser is to survive. If _They_ are going to survive. Another medic is folding a weighted blanket around her legs.

The shadows extend in front of them, pointed towards the lantern, the lights above them sparking and popping with every gasping breath from the girl, her eyes glazed over. She'll calm for a time, a murmur of "too much" and she's leaving stuttering hands scratching along her rib cage like she's trying to pull them apart. 

  
  


> **Decisions decided mistakes have been made**

There is nothing more frightening and impersonal than a storm. The destructive capabilities are certainly frightening, but the truly hollowing feeling was knowing that the storm is inevitable. He didn't choose the storm, it made its home inside of him. Unwelcomed, unwanted, _inevitable_.

It's both inside and outside his skin, buffeting his face with sand and pebbles and leaves that cut and sting. 

> **And what if tomorrow there's nobody there**

He is the frightened boy huddled under an altar.

He is the implacable storm. 

He is both. 

He is _neither_

The temple rends itself in half. 

> **To call out**

_The star is louder than the galaxy. It's closer. The planet, the jungle, every creature a pinprick of light. Almost grounding, almost maddening how distant and how close being settled and awake is. I can breathe, but can't speak. The energy to move, to exist is simply not there. I am aware, distant, and too present all at once. Cold but burning inside, shivers wracking me occasionally. The durasteel burns and aches against my bare arms, the hot-sticky patches of blood a sharp contrast._

They drop out of hyperspace. They'll still die if the ship tears apart but this way _maybe someone will find what's left of them._

She's stopped muttering, instead of staring at the ceiling unseeingly. Or seeing too much, perhaps. 

They've bandaged the scratches and cut her blunt human fingernails down to almost nothing in the hopes of keeping her from seeking the sensation out again. On a whim, they settle themselves next to their patient and sweep a hand through tangled, almost dry hair rhythmically. A tiny breath of relief curls around the room, like a snake untangling from the prey it has crushed. Her exhausted eyes begin to track the movement. 

> **So let me be solid and let me be sure.**

It's the pressure of the shattered stone on his chest that brings him back down from the high of being caught by the passion of the storm, half laughing, mostly sobbing. 

The memories of being the storm threaten to drag him back under, the entirety of his body itching for a moment as he's just barely too large for his skin, the shadows writing at his back like grass swept by the wind. 

Banked passion gives the strength to lift, throw, to stand. 

He is _himself_

Yet he is the stone of the temple crumbled around him, the planet shaking in an earthquake, 

He is the earthquake. 

Perhaps he wasn't as settled as he thought he was. 

Perhaps he _is._

> **And let me be honest and let me be pure**

_He is Storm, Planet and Temple._

_He is Celestial Body_

_He is Galaxy._

_He is Universe._

_He is all the Nothing-in-Between_

_He is the Force._

_He is still a very young boy, crying because nothing makes sense and the one who could subdue him is dead, as is the way._

_And the temple won't stop_ **_Breaking_ **

The central spire collapses like a dagger driving into the earth, the rest arrayed like a crown around a center of the devastation.

The ground stops shaking hours later. The tiny figure, stark on the ruined landscape, finds a ship docked clicks away from the pile of rubble they left behind, a crystal clenched in one hand and the fabric of the galaxy wound around the other. 

It’s all that’s left before the system collapses. 

> **And if I can't be those things let me be stubborn and doubt**

_I'm tracking the hand brushing my hair, fresh tears starting to spill out of my eyes at the tenderness of the gesture. Yet I'm the universe, I'm fighting for the tendrils of both dark and light sunk through the entire galaxy, but just the system._

_I am the predator here and anything Other should be Afraid._

_Everything Other should be terrified. They should run, hide and cower. Fear Her. Love Her._

She's coming out of it, occasional shivers wracking the sturdy frame that has somehow held up to the experience of the last few hours. No broken bones or strained ligaments. Beasts and strange things flit through the shadows, glaring with empty red eyes if you meet their shape for too long. Other Medics recoil from the darkness occasionally. 

They know better and simply keep petting her hair, keeping it off her forehead, her breath starting to settle into the timing of the strokes. Two in, one to hold, two out. She's tracking their hand, another good sign. Now that they're not scared for their hand to be accidentally broken, they take her hand from where it was clenched against her side and hold it, gentle pressure attempting to be grounding to this tiny universe of a person.

She squeezes back exhaustedly, finally focusing on their face next to hers. The tiny groaning settles of the ship slowly fade. The shadows glaring holes into the back of their head gather inside her eyes but don't attack. They've been passed over. 

_Spared._

> **Don't let me mean nothing or just pass away**

The _Nothing-in-Between_ is like a cradle for him to sleep in, the fabric of it wrapped around his ship, his moment in time. All His. 

He would subdue what wasn't _His._ It was anyway, by right. All would know him soon and acknowledge him or be destroyed. 

The ship would shudder sometimes on long empty nights when he wasn't the Lord of the Universe, above all. 

When he was simply one boy who wanted very desperately to _go home,_

_please just let me go home._

And the shapes in Nothing-in-Between would laugh.

"Where is home, Boy? You are us! You are Nothing-from-Nowhere"

He'd wake the next morning with the Storm writhing beneath his skin (eating him _alive_ ) and he'd find a planet or a system to unleash it into before it consumed him.

He was conquering, he knew. Winning. It should all be His.

_He just wished he remembered why._

  
  


> **Just give me tomorrow forever today**

_I don't know how many times I've woken up and then woken up again._

_It's still today. It’s still today._

_I’m still laying on the bench, still waiting for our relief from the front. I know that I keep waking up and falling and sleeping and waking again._

_Why can’t I stay awake?_

_There's an odd haze around the things I do repeatedly._

_Every time I wake I'm finding bruises and scratches I can't place. I'll jolt suddenly from completely numb to awake and within moments be sleepwalking again._

_Again_

_Again_

_Again_

_Again_

  
  


_The mortal experience is too narrow._

_Only so many colors, only so much time._

_There's not enough to keep me here and I'm floating, barely tethered to this body, my spirit too large for this space._

_It's still today._

_I'm eighteen standard years old. I'm Pythia. I'm timeless and the universe. I'm Jedi. I'm Stone and everything-in-between. I'm the Force. I simply use it. I'm_ **_Other._ **

_It's still today_

_I keep dreaming while I'm awake and the boy-who-is-the-storm is conquering worlds in the chaos we're both drowning in._

_I'm not sure what's real anymore. I keep losing time._

_It's still today._

_I keep telling the troops about what will happen._

_What has happened?_

_Again_

_And_

_Again_

_They say I keep telling them about the way I die._

_Among friends, with the betrayal of the betrayers._

_I'm not sure I wanted to know that._

  
  


> **God knows I'll waste it**

They know they're on borrowed time. 

Their commander isn't present half the time, wandering the halls like she's lost something. 

They guess that's achingly true. 

Her teacher is dead or missing, likely dead. They've already found her trying to access the airlock. 

Trying and failing, much to everyone's relief. 

She was in medical now. Battle shock, the other medic said. 

They aren't sure that's quite right. No other _jetti_ had panic attacks that tried to rip apart ships. That or they never heard about it. That’s a distinctly uncomfortable thought.

They comm the temple just to see if there's any other information they can find. A report to Command and they're headed home as fast as possible through sublight. Something about hyperspace causing sensitivity to psychosis and a long-winded explanation that frankly, they didn't listen to. 

Just keep the Commander calm and get her back to her people. That's all they have to worry about. 

> **The great equalizer is determinedly rushing my way**

They don't know what they expected when they informed the Commander that they'd be returning to the temple. 

A grim nod, a moment of recognition in blank eyes. She went back to staring at the Medbay wall like it was the only piece of the world she recognized. They’re muttering as they beat a hasty retreat. “Kriffing _creepy Jetti”._ It’s undignified and not policy to want to run from their Commander, is it? Even though she’s been officially removed from command and confined to the medbay, she’s still their _Jetti..._ no one is sure anymore. 

The cruiser was underway. She was on a kriffing Watch. She was a flight risk. This should have never have happened.

A shuttle stolen, her crystal and shattered 'sabers gathered from her quarters. Her extra set of robes.

The Medics and Guards didn’t remember her leaving, all in some kind of a dazed stupor, one outright snoring, a puddle of drool forming in his bucket that shorted out his comms and alerted them to the security breach in the first place. 

Her talking to the air on the security cameras was even lower on the list of things they expected when they reviewed them to see how she got through the security. She gestured and laughed, eyes unfocused as she walked through the shockingly empty halls, occasionally leaning against a wall to catch her breath.

Sealing the hanger behind her was an accident, as half the cruiser, including men who’d been running to scramble ships, dropping to the ground, unconscious. Rousing them took enough time for her to jump into hyperspace. 

Maybe...Maybe they should’ve listened to the explanation.

This was _bad_. 

  
  


> **Be content**

The first time he sees her 

_Nothing-in-Between_ **_recognizes_ ** _her._

_"Prophetess"_

It whispers, hissing and spitting _._

The _Other_ around and within her rasps in weary acknowledgment, not an accusation, no venom in the title like the _Nothing_ gave off.

_"Priest”_

  
  


> **Be content**

She's almost to the shuttle when she hears the voice and feels the presence. 

She smiles with too many teeth, too many eyes, skin shifting colors for a moment until she seems to settle with one eye glowing on her forehead, almost invisible in the harsh lighting of the cruiser. 

A universe of a person seeing him, seeing the tendril of awareness and darkness wrapped around her ankle like a begging child. It burns like frozen metal, leaving a red impression behind. An involuntary shudder shakes her frame. She’s tall and strong, muscles rippling as she allows the hairs standing up on her bare arms to settle. 

"I see you. I know. I'll be there soon, little one. I’ll be there soon." 

The universe shivers in anticipation, a tiny shudder rolling through her shoulders, through hastily hacked off hair too tangled for patience, making it bristle and stand up on her arms. 

She pulls the cloak over her head and her eyes spark from inside the shadows, one growing into a snake that settles around her shoulders. 

_Soon_

> **Why am I unnerved**

_Kess_ is what they name him. 

Priest. Prophet. Harbinger…Some spit it like an insult, others murmur it like a prayer. 

(He isn't Kess. He can't be. He is _Storm-from-Nothing-and-Nowhere._

How could he have a Name? _)_

And on this planet, where he landed with the Storm squirming beneath his skin, his eyes blank and all one color, the pupils obscured by the mist inside his mind. On this place, he is not the planet. The Planet is itself and he finds in himself no need to conquer.

Only odd desperation to be _loved_ that he finds in himself.

_Perhaps that's why the Nothing-in-Between is silent here._

On this planet, the mothers look at him not with fear but with almost pity. He catches whispered conversations about those who wander into the ocean and don't come back. 

He tells them they must leave. They send him to the fathers and elders of the tribe.

The fathers and elders offer him seats, food, and stories. Like he's a visiting relative or a lost child. 

He keeps telling them they must leave the planet. 

The daughters dance with him, some speaking of telling the tale of dancing with the storm for years to come. 

He begs them to go. They laugh.

The sons tell jokes and wrestle and carefully help him find ways to let off the storm in bursts rather than as an overwhelming blast. 

He threatens them to go, raging in pointless shouts.

They clap his shoulder and tell him that's why they're helping him release, like vents on a volcano.

He doesn’t know why they _name_ him with such gentleness. 

He is a Storm, inevitable, endless. Unforgiving, Unmerciful. 

Who would care to call such a thing by a name? 

What makes them unafraid?

Don’t they know he is going to destroy them? 

Yet they call his name with laughter and brightness that makes the storm itch at his core. 

_Don’t they know?_

  
  
  
  


> **Oh why am I surprised**

_He doesn't know why he's grieving. He warned them. He tried._

~~_He Warned Them_ ~~

The dust that was the planet _screams_

> **This life's only constant now I realize**

A single sleek shuttle hurtles through the void.

_I can feel him now that I'm in open space, feel the horror, hear him screaming._

_Who could harm him?_

_I know that answer too clearly._

_Only himself._

_The shuttle dances through space, reality-warping around me as I focus on the now._

_I still slip occasionally, think of myself as Stone rather than Pythia._

_I tremble sometimes, on the edge of panic, running the course of the emotions of infinite lifetimes._

_Infant wailing, matronly sobs, and young woman's heartbreak._

_I can't release it into the Force._

_My attempt left asteroids and moon battered. If I hadn’t been so expanded, that would have been my ship. That would have been my Life._

_I can't release it into the Force_

_Because it simply returns back into The Force and into me._

_I'm not going to reach him in time._

_I'm infinity and I am not fast enough._

_The helpless rage flares and ebbs, shadows flickering through the edges of my vision._

_Sometimes I dream while awake, staring into the black._

_I don't remember why I left exactly. Something about if I didn't go, they'd die with me._

_I suppose I'm not...what I was before. The Other tells me it doesn’t matter. I’m better now._ _More._

_I’m not sure I wanted to know that either, peering into infinity while my mind is flayed raw with the stars._

_I try and tell myself the truest things I can, desperately clinging to my sense of self._

_My name is Stone. Pythia. I am Other._

_The titles and names flash past like incomprehensible moments of clarity that are confusing when awoken. Dream logic - sensible in its own sphere..._

_Stone- ~~Pythia~~ \- _ _Other_ _-Pythia-_ ~~_Other_ ~~ _-Stone._

_I have a Name. I'm a person._

_I can feel the darkness seeping into the void around me._

_I don't think I've slept or eaten in days._

_Space should be more comforting than this._

_But I forgot._

_I forgot that cold means death._

  
  


> **A person is present until the one day he must go**

The universe was shivering apart. Smaller and smaller pieces. Storms in space. A ship that somehow is still solid despite the crushing guilt and pain that tore a planet and moon in half, half, ~~and half.~~

_Everything he touches he breaks._

The _Nothing-In-Between_ hisses suddenly with protective recognition as the boy has cried until he retched. He isn’t the Lord of all, Ruler of the Universe.

_He is a lost child who no one believed_. 

The small fighter is tugged into tow by a shuttle, a gentle shushing and the touch of a ghost rocking him to sleep as he allows the draining feelings to lift for a moment.

Faintly feeling the tendrils of the black, the _Nothing_ protectively crouched around him. It feels like the early days when this wasn’t a noose, but a cradle.

He slept. The star gave a final shudder and abruptly fell in on itself, the shadows of black swarming over its center, a fiery eye to witness the destruction

_The eyes of the damned follow him forever_

> **So when that day comes whether planned or unplanned**

They couldn’t believe the carnage until they’d arrived. 

Dust swirled around a rapidly deteriorating single sun system, solar flares shuddering through it, throwing the dust in huge arcs of flame.

The tech rushed to the CO’s side. “Sir, there’s no way her ship survived. The ship’s tracking signal stopped close to our position, fairly recently after the star began to collapse, from our readings.”

Muscles in his neck jumped as he swallowed, his eyes haunted. “We have our orders.” 

The silent unspoken order that at the least they could bring back the little Commander’s body.

After all, they were never as disposable as she was. They could spare some men to look for her. For their little _jetti,_ before she was forgotten, like all the rest.

The probes began to sweep the system, fighters dodging flares to maintain the search pattern..

The ship was still functional and was here recently - the last tracker is floating in the wreckage of what was once a warm, wet world now scorched to ash and sand.

_Unexpected_

> **When I join the infinite grains of the sand**

_I can feel every spark that-once-was. Like every piece of sand is screaming._

_The galaxy at war inside a mortal that is the boy I am dragging out of the system, risking hyperspace for the speed we desperately need._

_Risking world-ending panic because I cannot abide by staying a moment longer. We're being chased and it's necessary, are all that keep me quiet and calm._

_I must get him somewhere else._

_Somewhere safe._

_I scream, at the Other, inconsolable in my grief, my rage-fierce love for a child I'd never met._

_The shaking horror of an infinity of mothers and daughters in my blood._

_"You took a boy and tried to remake him! He is just a child! YOU STOLE HIM”_

_My gestures become wild, a fist slamming into durasteel to punctuate the words that boil out of me along with volume increasing, the rawness of my throat aching against the words. I know I’m screaming at shadows, but they can hear me. They **will** hear me. _

_“Stripped his whole world from him! How could you?"_

_And the Other replied, snake-spider eyes staring unblinkingly into mine from the shadows._

_"_ The dust _was not_ his _world"_

_I can't do hyperspace after that._

_I can't._

> **When I see the white gates of heaven and fires below**

He knew he was the Storm. No. He was Kess.

He was _Kess_

He'd do the dead this one honor and let them name him. 

He knew he'd just been kidnapped. Was that the right term for someone who you'd never met but you knew was coming?

Even an entire ship over, the _Nothing-in-Between_ in her presence had puffed itself up in anger.

Not...anger. _Fear_. 

A being who could scare the _Nothing_ was a powerful one indeed. 

The sky spiraled around them in a short hyperspace jump, the feeling of pressure against his shadows like a steady hand keeping his lungs from fully expanding.

A jolt in everything, a sudden high noise like the keening between sobs. It ate at his control, made the storm hair-trigger, made the Nothing growl at just slightly higher of a pitch than was tolerable. 

Kess remembered the fiery eye of the sun, staring through him, at him, at all of him. 

The final image of what he had visited on them, burned into his eyes. He rubs them over and over, trying to wipe away that image, to scour it from his skin. 

His hands are raw and bleeding sluggishly against his tunic. 

  
Kess, Storm, _Nothing-from-Nowhere,_ Lord of the Universe.

Kess just wants to go _home_

And maybe, this one, this other universe. Maybe if she _rescued_ him. 

(it wasn’t a kidnapping, not really, not if he _wanted to come)_

He reaches out and mentally curls into her lap.

_Maybe she could be Home._

> **Don't let me be nothing or just pass away**

_Empty numbness replaces the emotions. If it’s better or worse, I cannot tell._

_Pressure, faint and echoing along my ribs and the back of my neck._

_Soft hand tucked into mine, sensation ghosting over my skin. Grounded in the reality that this is where the Other has been guiding me my whole life._

_I can see myself from the outside, a corona of fire dancing around my head, covering my eyes like a blindfold of light. It both burns and cleanses._

_A thin strip of gentle care, the Other realizing that much more staring into Infinity...I’d die._

_The fire presses into my eyes slightly, bathing me in light._

_With nothing at the center._

_I am empty._

_Nothing and I are getting to be friends, I suppose._

  
  


> **Just give me tomorrow forever today**

They’re closing on the little Commander _Jetti._

  
He’d promised the General that they’d bring her home. 

_Loyalty means everything._

They can feel the weight of the war-like rot, lancing through their armor, stinking up the air. It’s a weight they all carry, the weight of the dead and the weight of the forgotten 

A single transmission, grainy, staticky.

They have their orders.

~~( goodsoldiersfollow- )~~

  
  


> **God knows I'll waste it**

They order the medbay prepared for containment. 

The entire cruiser is a mad scramble, readying for a battle that they don’t know how to win. 

There’s a moment of pure thought, untainted after the order has been fulfilled, waiting between new orders 

_We are both betrayal and the betrayed_

> **The great equalizer is determinedly rushing my way**

There's something _satisfying_ about a hunt coming to a close, to finding and capturing or killing something that took so much effort. 

There's something _wrong_ with emotion when you don't get a choice in feeling it. 

There's something _horrifying_ about hunting someone you love like an animal.

When you're just a puppet struggling for control, for feeling, for anything that lets you feel like a person again. 

_Anything_

> **Be content**

The ships (the cradles of Otherness) land on the forested moon, the ocean whipped into a gentle frenzy by their landing. Kess manages to stumble from the fighter before he collapses, the storm in his stomach, an earthquake, and a shattering noise behind him. 

He hits the ground heavily, feeling the _Nothing-In-Between_ groan deeply somewhere in the black. Lights! _Lights are going out._

_The galaxy screams like the dust._

He is small, short legs barely holding his weight as he trembles from the backlash of the _screaming_. His own throat is growing bruised from all the noises he’s tried to make over the last cycle. 

She ducks out of the shuttle, running for him, reality blurring and bending around her. The solid one skids to a stop on her knees, grabbing his hand. The Storm doesn’t revolt at her touch, doesn’t throw her off in a rage, doesn’t destroy her. The _Nothing_ weighs in, distant to his secondary ears, echoing like when prophecies are delivered. “She is allowed. _”_

They’re further away from the ships than should be possible. He risks a look around and sees the cruiser hanging in orbit, the bright flash that rains like the final judgment, burning through the atmosphere, screaming towards them. He blinks and they’re even further away.

An explosion rocks the planet and another and another, again and again. The forest is on fire, the acrid smoke burning both their lungs. 

With the boy’s natural eyes shut, he can look out of all the other eyes and see her true form. A woman with soft lips, turned down in concentration, her eyes covered with a blindfold of flames, a snake curled around her shoulders. Bright light baths her and clothes her at the same time. She’s young but is so much older and stronger than he is. 

She’s _everything he could never be._

He reaches out tentatively, ready to dodge, be beaten back like the scourge he is. He claims to be nothing but the destruction - and destruction is despair and hatred and pain.

He deserves _nothing_ of kindness.

A soft-callused hand cups his cheek, the fingers brushing against hair, tangling in a wayward curl. Lips pressed to his forehead, a blessing of light girding his darkness. The soul-bond wraps around his very existence, anchoring him. He presses into her, bringing change and a hand to hold in the earthquake. Someone to protect. The storm settles under his skin, not clear skies, but windswept moors. Balanced. Her voice whispers in his mind.

_“Oh, Little One, what have they done to you?”_

_Our moment is marred by the sounds of deploying gunships. The Betrayal and the betrayed have arrived._

_I wrap him in my arms, pulling him to me as I stand, ready to pour my soul into vanishing. He is Storm-Priest-King. He is My Child._

_He shifts to wrap arms around my neck, buries his face in the space between my collarbone and my neck and we walk. He’s still shaking, the storm swirling beneath his skin, something Other howling in his mind in shock and pain. Wind whips into our skin from the Betrayers and from the overload in his psyche._

_The Mother of the Storm has nothing to fear. We walk. Fading into reality from shadow to shadow, mortal bodies bending and shimmering like tales of witches and wraiths. I’d always been told we were luminous beings. I wonder if we have ever realized that in order to be seen there has to be both light and darkness in us for the contrast to be appreciated. Wings of fire trail from me, the wrath of the storm kicking ethereal sparks into my hair._

_There's an art to hiding, to becoming myth and legend. Stone has done it before. She can teach me, in the way of the Other. We make for the caverns that form a small silent temple in the middle of nowhere, shadow-slipping inside like we are ghosts. Soon, our people will be._

_He’s so young to be so sad. I set him down, lace his fingers with mine as we find ourselves in our physical forms again, kneeling across from each other._

_He smiles, sad shy, and scared all at once. It's fleeting in the face of his terror._

_I press our foreheads together, mingling breath and touch, hearing him regain his equilibrium as he matches my steady flow. Grounding each other._

_We are Storm and Silence, Mother and Child, Priest and Prophetess._

_We are what we were meant to be._

_“Oh, my Little One. What will you do to me?"_

> **O, Be Content**

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> They kick at the ashes.  
> "Bloody kriffing creepy Jetti"  
> and they walk away. 
> 
> Come yell at me on my tumblr! 
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/undercoverprincessmandy


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